


Hibernation

by soy_em



Series: Wincestmas 2017 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Gen, M/M, Sam Winchester at Stanford, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 19:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13394205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soy_em/pseuds/soy_em
Summary: Its Sam's first Christmas at Stanford, and all he wants to do is hibernate.





	Hibernation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SinnamonSpider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinnamonSpider/gifts).



Sam walks back across the quiet campus, bathed in sunshine and wishing for snow. 

California is surreal at this time of year, he thinks; he’s used to rain and wind, if not freezing temperatures during his Christmas break. He’s even more keen on the idea this year because all he wants to do is hibernate in his empty dorm room, huddling under the covers and eating ready meals; but the brightness makes him feel so guilty he’s ventured outside every single day. 

Today’s trip was to the lone mini-mart open on Christmas Day; a long, silent walk through the verdant green of Stanford. Campus is eerie without its usual baying mobs of young people, studying or playing frisbee or throwing up on the greens, and it highlights the difference between Sam and his peers, all of whom have gone home for the holidays. The only person Sam spots on his walk is a solitary caretaker, carefully inspecting the locks on the main building. Sam waves but the guy just glares suspiciously.

Sam swings his bag of beer against his side, feeling restless despite the walk. He’s got nothing other than more hibernation planned for the rest of the day, his main task to bully the antenna on his cheap tv into submission. 

He knows his mind will wander during whatever crappy film he finds, taking him to thoughts of his Dad and above all, Dean, always Dean. He wonders what they’re doing today; whether they’re even together. Dad had never placed much stock in Christmas, and it had always been left to Dean to do whatever he could to make the day special for his little brother. Sam wonders how Dean will feel today with no one to take care of. Much like Sam feels not being taken care of, he reflects.

Back in the dorm, Sam pulls the curtains across the windows. Shrugging out of his jeans, he’s soon back in his musty, unchanged bed, buried under the covers with a beer in one hand and the tv remote in the other. His holiday reading looms aggressively on his desk, but he can’t even bring himself to look at it at the moment; today is not for studying. 

Two hours later, Sam has given up on whatever movie is playing listlessly in the background. He’s lying on his side, beer abandoned, staring at the wall and wishing for sleep. Images of Dean flash through his mind, a whirling carousel of the silly, joyful, painful, intense moments between them over the years. Dean tickling Sam, Sam tackling Dean to the floor and winning, Dean bandaging Sam’s injured hand, Sam lagging behind Dean to watch on one of their morning jogs. 

Dean preparing a makeshift Christmas dinner, Dean dragging a only-slightly battered Christmas tree through their front door, Dean handing him a poorly wrapped present, Dean tying the amulet around his neck. Sam tries desperately to stifle his sobs, body shaking despite his attempts to deny his feelings, then punches his pillow in frustration. He’d been the one to walk away, after all. 

And then there’s a hesitant knocking on his door, so soft he convinces himself he’s imagined it at first. But then he hears it again, that particular rat-a-tat-tat that he associates with one person. Sam’s heart almost stops, his fingers tingling with excitement as he hauls himself out of bed and stumbles across to the door on shaking legs. 

Sure enough, Dean’s leaning against the doorframe when Sam opens the door, cocky grin firmly in place to hide any vulnerability. Sam’s legs almost give out as Dean brushes past him without waiting to be invited. 

“Wow kiddo, really pushed the boat out for Christmas,” Dean mocks as he surveys the room. “Good thing I brought dinner.”

Sam ignores the words and focuses on Dean, who is really here in front of him. His brother, here, in Sam’s Stanford dorm room, and before he’s realised what he’s doing he’s across the room in Dean’s arms, pressed tight against his brother, face buried in Dean’s neck. Dean stumbles from the force of Sam’s hug, but doesn’t crumple, and Sam hugs tighter. 

Dean exhales shakily into the top of Sam’s head. “Happy Christmas, little brother.”

Sam sobs one last time. “Happy Christmas, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [Tumblr](https://soy-em.tumblr.com/).


End file.
